Grace locked eyes with her. ‘Ma’am, if he was a good shot, then he hit his intended target. There is always the possibility that the shooter was much further away than we believe, in which case his margin of error could be as much as four feet — the approximate distance between you and Sir Peregrine at the moment he was shot.’
‘What about we just hypothesize for a moment, as I believe you detectives like to say. Let’s hypothesize that this gunman — shooter — was indeed a very bad shot. And that he missed his real target. And did the same again with his second shot. That would mean he might try again.’
‘We are acutely aware of this being a possibility,’ Grace said. ‘Until we find and arrest the offenders, your personal security — and that of His Majesty The King’s — needs to be at the highest level of alert. We are working closely with both your Royal Protection team and with the Met’s Counter Terrorism Command, and updating them twice daily.’
‘That’s very reassuring,’ The Queen replied, not looking at all reassured.
‘One final question I have for you today, is whether, to your knowledge, Sir Peregrine Greaves had any enemies?’
She frowned. ‘Enemies?’
‘Someone who, for whatever reason, might have wanted him dead?’
She was silent for some while before responding. ‘Well, there is quite a hornets’ nest of jealousies, rivalries, jostling for position and favours within the Royal Household. I’m sure Tommy can elaborate on this. It’s probably no different in many ways to what goes on in any large corporate structure. Some people get a bit frustrated, some people get angry. But angry enough to commit murder? Managing to engage co-conspirators?’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so — we are getting into very far-fetched territory here, don’t you think?’
Grace waited for a few moments after she had finished speaking, then replied, ‘I’m afraid the facts do take us into the realm of the far-fetched. I don’t want to sound insensitive or in any way disrespectful, but could there have been any other reason someone might have wanted Sir Peregrine dead? If we are right — and we may not be — but if we are, the people behind this went to a great deal of trouble to kill him. And we need to understand why.’
The Queen shook her head, very slowly, from side to side. ‘Perry was universally popular. The only thing I can think of is that he did like the trappings that went with his job, and had been upset over one issue recently — he was so upset he spoke to The King about it.’
‘Which was, Your Majesty?’ Grace asked.
‘Well, Tommy was trying to move his team, along with all the others in the Royal Household, into open-plan offices. Perry always had a beautiful office in St James’s Palace, with some very fine paintings on the wall. He was extremely upset because there was nowhere for these to be hung in the proposed new offices.’
‘That doesn’t seem like much of a motive for killing him, Your Majesty,’ Branson said.
‘I think I would agree with you.’ The Queen looked at her watch, then back at each detective in turn, before levelling on Grace. ‘Perry did say to me he had an issue he wanted to speak to me about when we were on the train.’ She paused for a moment. ‘But he was always wanting to tell me something or other. They all do, Detective Superintendent, I don’t get a moment’s peace. I doubt it was anything significant. Now, I’m afraid I have to attend another meeting in a quarter of an hour. The King wants to speak to you, and on this occasion, I’ll take you to his office.’ She turned to Branson. ‘If you come with us, Jayne will show you the Billiards Room, where your colleagues are conducting their interviews with my staff. Then I understand Tommy is taking you and another member of your team to see Peregrine’s widow, Margot, Lady Greaves?’
‘That is correct, Ma’am,’ Grace replied.
She stood and both of them immediately followed, a respectful step or two behind.
‘Please don’t think, Detective Superintendent Grace and Detective Inspector Branson, that I want to be anything other than helpful to your enquiries. Don’t look at me as anyone special. Just treat me as you would any other witness to a murder. Neither I nor The King are above the due process of the law.’
33
Wednesday 22 November 2023
Grace held the door for The Queen and her Private Secretary, then followed Glenn Branson out into the corridor. His eye was immediately taken by an ancient and very lifelike portrait of a nobleman with a massive beard, staring imperiously out of the canvas.
‘You have some wonderful art in the Palace, Ma’am,’ he said.
She turned towards him, now with a very big smile, as if he had touched on a favourite subject. ‘Is it an interest of yours?’ she asked.
‘Both my wife and I, Ma’am,’ he replied.
‘Well, in that case we’ll take the slightly long way round, and go via the Marble Corridor and up to the Picture Gallery, where we have some of our finest paintings — and some wonderful statues.’ Then, as if she was assuming the role of Palace tour guide, The Queen said, ‘Did you know we have the largest private collection of Canalettos in the world here in Buckingham Palace?’
He shook his head, wishing he could be videoing this for Cleo. The Queen herself giving him a tour!
‘I’ll show you some, as well as our very magnificent Rembrandts.’
Along the way, Glenn and Jayne peeled off, but Grace barely noticed, he was so mesmerized by all the paintings Queen Camilla was pointing out. As well as the display cabinet after display cabinet of fine ornaments and jewellery they passed.
‘Do you have a favourite painting, Ma’am?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I do. I’ll show it to you. It’s in the Picture Gallery.’
After a few minutes, with Grace awkwardly tongue-tied, they climbed a wide staircase and entered a long gallery with rose-pink walls and a vaulted glass ceiling. Gilded sofas with grey satin coverings, as if there for viewing purposes, were arranged along either side of white marble fireplaces. There was a hush about the room, an almost cathedral-like sense of awe. Grace couldn’t help it, he had to just stop and stare for a second at the paintings on both sides.
‘Some of the very best Canalettos are on the left,’ The Queen pointed out. ‘It was George III who was responsible — and rather unintentionally — for acquiring these, as well as my favourite painting.’
‘Really?’ Grace said.
‘George III loved books. He bought a collection from the British Consul in Venice in 1762 — a fellow called Joseph Smith. Apparently Smith was short of money and offered The King a deal on fifty-three Canalettos, and threw in another picture by a then relatively unknown Dutch artist called Vermeer.’
‘Amazing!’
‘Indeed,’ she said. ‘And over on the right, just over there, we have our best Rembrandts.’
Grace was torn between the stunning landscapes of Canaletto’s Venice and the sombre but incredibly detailed and lifelike Rembrandts, hardly knowing which way to look and wishing he could stop and linger.
‘But this,’ Queen Camilla said, really animated now, ‘this coming up is my absolute favourite painting in the entire Royal Collection — this simply gorgeous Vermeer — it—’
She stopped in mid-sentence and stared, puzzled, at a landscape featuring a couple together in an idyllic woodland setting. There were two Doric columns behind them and a lake in a forest further back, surrounded by an array of beautiful people in beautiful period clothes.
She turned to Grace. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘The Royal Collection team are constantly doing this — taking away paintings and other works of art to clean them and replacing them with something else, like this Fragonard. Jewellery too. There’s a particularly beautiful coronet I just adore, with a quite magnificent diamond, which has been removed from a display cabinet and gone ages. I keep asking the Director of the Royal Collection when it’s coming back. I’m afraid the Royal Collection team really are a law unto themselves!’